General Chat

Anyone know some good ones?? Perhaps we can push the 'offending' thing to the limit with this topic, but let's start off with a 'clean' one. There was a yound lady from Leeds, Who swallowed a packet of seeds. In less than an hour Her face was a flower And her body was covered in weeds.

A limerick should always be rude. The ladies all type in the nude On Genes Reunited The men are delighted, It’s no place to be for a prude

I hear Bob told his very best buddy GC ladies all type in the nuddy When I tried typing starkers Hubby laughed at my carcass And ran laughing out of the study

And my favourite oldie There was a young lady from Tottenham Who'd no manners or else she'd forgotten 'em At tea at the vicars She tore off her kn*ckers Because she explained she felt hot in 'em

Phillip Jones started off with a limerick A flowery ditty he nicked Was he ever in Leeds A sowing his seeds And showing young ladies his D***?

I think this topic has potential To become rapidly quite offent-ial When we get long past forty Our thoughts become naughty Jean Paul Sartre became quite existential

The yeomen of England are ready To defend intellectual property “existence is prior to essence” Is a load of frenchified nonsense The English prefer something pithy

Bob! I think that your end state of rhyming Is strong not on rhyming but timing Let's consider Descartes Cogito thus I art Can't beat Frenchmen for philosophising (oops sorry challenged by my own rhymes there)

There was a young lady....tut, tut! So you think you are in for some smut Some five lined crescendo Of lewd innuendo? Well, you're wrong. This is anything but. ack http://www.guernsey.net/~poetry/Alimarch.html

My ditties are ever so witty I think it’s just such a pity I need lots of red wine To make my rhymes rhyme When I’m sober I can’t make them lit’ry (Off to bed now.... hic!)

I'm sad you admitted defeat And succumbed to the call of bed sheet I hope now that it's over You don't wake hungover Cos limericks are very neat

There was a farmer from Leeds, Who ate six packets of seeds, It soon came to pass, He was covered with grass, And he couldn't sit down for the weeds! Liz

There was a young woman named Bright Whose speed was much faster than light. She set out one day In a relative way, And returned on the previous night. Liz

The girl stood on the buring deck her lips were all a quiver she gave a cough her leg fell off and floated down the river. (a school one!!)

There was a young man called Des Cartes Who suffered from terrible farts He’d accept nothing as true Though the air had turned blue He created intellectual chaos

There was a young lady called Fee Instead of two t*ts she had three She looked near and far To find her a bra Though they are perky as ever could be

Bob's hangover's over I guess Though his rhymes are still a terrible mess To get his rocks off he Scoffs at French philosophy But the red wine is OK? Bob .. confess!

There was a young lady from Frome In Somerset that was her home Her name rhymed with randy Which was ever so handy When you are making up lines for a poem

In Essex a lady called Jo To France she thought she would go elle ne parle pas français in the Pas de Calais So she landed in Westward Ho

There was a young lady called Price And everyone thought she was nice But those in the know Knew how she could go Her knickers came down in a trice